by Heather Plett | Jun 24, 2009 | savour
On wish-casting Wednesday, I wish to savour sunshine, stillness, family, beauty… and all of these lovely things:
My horribly cute nephew…
My equally cute (and somewhat goofy) daughter and niece…
The magic of birth (and a little nostalgia for me and my farm-raised siblings)…
Maddie’s magical fort (with a TV on the ceiling, a magic bookcase that turns the pages for you when you’re tired, a kitchen that cooks anything you want, and a club membership that guarantees you a free trip to Spain and Disneyland every year!)…
And a small taste of my new creative venture…
by Heather Plett | Jun 23, 2009 | Uncategorized
I’ve tried to write about four different blog posts today, and so far, I’ve deleted all of them. (If you can see this one, it means it didn’t face the same fate as the others.) I’ve tried to write about re-watching my fearless video halfway through the year, I’ve tried to write something about where I’m at with work now that the board approved my proposal, I considered writing about the creative stuff I did yesterday on my day off… none of it is working for me today. I’m scattered, listless, unengaged, unsatisfied… I could come up with a whole list of adjectives today, and most of them would have the prefix “un-“ attached to them.
Let’s start with “un-settled”. Lots of things feel unsettled these days. Marcel’s dad is back in the hospital (and may never be out of it again – who knows), so our emotions have been doing lots of flip flops. Mostly, I’ve been feeling kind of emotionally removed from the whole thing (it’s been dragging out for too long), but after spending a good part of Saturday night (my “fun day” ended in a “not-so-fun night”) in emergency with his mom and dad (Marcel was on driving duty that night but he was sick) and seeing how weak and lost he looks and how worn out she looks, I can’t help but feel the weight of the whole situation.
And how about “un-motivated”. Yes, the board approved my proposal, and yes, I appreciate the trust they put in me, and yes, some exciting possibilities were unleashed, but… does that give me enough motivation and excitement to stick around and invest in these really big changes? I don’t know. The whole thing really wore me out, quite frankly. I’m tired. I’m waiting for my passion to be re-engaged.
Let’s add “un-satisfied”. I’ve got lots of ideas blossoming and they feel like really good ideas and I so badly want to jump whole-heartedly into them, but I’m just not finding enough time and space and energy. I took yesterday off, and made a little more progress on my studio space and created some paintings for the space (and for my new website idea), but they felt like such tiny steps when I’m chomping at the bit to make some REAL progress. I have a full time job (that’s a little extra stressful these days), three busy kids that need to go to soccer games and who-knows-what-else, mountains of laundry, a house and yard that are looking increasingly unkempt, and that just doesn’t leave a lot of space for creative projects.
I’m trying not to get to “un-happy”, but it’s a slippery slope. I want some fresh space to open up, but I can’t see that happening for quite some time. Perhaps I need to let go of this blossoming idea for now. Perhaps I need to just be satisfied with letting it percolate for another year or two while I re-invest the energy it will take to be really good at my job again.
What do you do when a bad case of the “un’s” drags you down?
by Heather Plett | Jun 19, 2009 | gratitude
Today feels so much more hopeful than the last few weeks have felt. Partly it’s due to a huge release in pressure since the board meetings are over and I no longer need to stress out about the big proposal I was presenting.
With the return of hope, I thought a gratitude list was in order. Here’s what I’m feeling grateful for this morning:
– the delicious burritos my daughter cooked for supper last night
– my husband has been picking up the slack a lot around the home front while I’ve been busy having meltdowns and disappearing when I needed to for visits to the labyrinth and the grave
– the fun and crazy orange and green room Julie and I created – just in time for her 12th birthday (eventually I’ll get some pictures posted)
– the free carpet I just got for my new creative sanctuary in the basement
– the lovely voice mail from the lovely Michele, “just so that there was a pleasant voice on my answering machine not asking for ANYTHING”
– the equally lovely emails from Linda and Cynthia for essentially the same reason
– all of the friendly, supportive comments on this blog – you really lifted me up when I was feeling pretty low
– the fact that our board of directors put enough trust in me to approve my full proposal (even though they had to drag it through the mud a bit before they could approve it). (But… can I just say… YIKES! I have a lot of work to do!)
– some really kind and supportive things said to me by several board members (some of whom felt really badly for the “dragging through the mud” I had to live through)
– I get to hire 2 new staff to take some of my workload (and launch lots of new and exciting ideas)
– I have some renewed energy and a few new creative ideas for my day job and don’t feel quite as desperate to leave it as I did a few weeks ago
– a fun day on Monday when I got to take a Zimbabwean visitor out to a field to ride a tractor and play farmer for awhile (by the way, according to him, things are looking up in Zimbabwe!)
– the wonderful email exchanges I’m having with my soulsister-whom-I’ve-never-met Vicki (not much point in linking to her blog since she NEVER UPDATES IT! hint, hint.)
– a great book
– speaking of books, I sold a photo (from my Flickr set) for $50 and get to buy some new books, guilt-free! Can’t wait ’til they arrive in the mail! (Some of them are recommendations from you, my lovely blog readers. Thanks!)
– great biking weather the last few days
– it’s Friday! It’s the weekend!
What are you grateful for today?
by Heather Plett | Jun 18, 2009 | Leadership
Two places I go for solace and support – the labyrinth and the grave. Tonight, after a long and tiring board meeting that left me feeling beat up, dragged through the mud, and totally spent, I went to the grave.
On the way there, the tears flowed… again. The words that escaped my trembling lips were “I am not enough.”
More than anything else, these days, I am realizing that I am just not enough. I am not enough to fill the tank of all of the people who need it. I am not enough to respond to all of the hunger in the world. I am not enough to fill the ever-present needs of my children. I am not enough to provide the affirmation and support that my staff (who sometimes think I’m a little aloof) want. I am not enough to respond to the demands of my boss, my board, and all the stakeholders who want my leadership, my decision-making, and my vision. I am not enough to support the friends and family who need supporting. I am not enough to reach out to the people in the neighbourhood like the young mom who just died of a drug overdose. I am not enough to do the volunteer work that I often feel guilty about avoiding.
I am just not enough. I cannot fill everyone’s tank. Especially when mine is empty.
As I sat there at the grave, I leaned on a sturdy tree and looked out across the rows of graves. With the sun setting behind me, my body cast a long shadow across the grass.
A gentle voice whispered in my ear. “You can learn something from that shadow. If you stand here and trust the Light, it can make you much taller than you ever dreamed you could be. Keep the Light behind you, and even if you bend over with the weight of the world on your shoulders, you can reach the people who need to be reached. Leave the rest to someone else.”
Somehow, I’ve got to find and trust others who are willing to stand with me with our backs to the Light. I’m tired of trying to do so much alone.
by Heather Plett | Jun 16, 2009 | Uncategorized
Imagine my surprise today when I walked into my office, opened the envelope on top of my in-box, and spotted my dad’s unmistakable writing on the letter inside. He’s been dead for nearly 6 years. How could I be getting a letter from him six years after we buried him?
It turns out the editor of The Messenger (a publication of the church denomination I grew up with), who has known my dad for alot of years, thought I might appreciate the letter dad had sent him 9 years ago. He couldn’t have been more right.
In his later life, my dad became something of a writer (I come by it honestly, as do other members of my family) and had a few articles and letters to the editor published. He didn’t write alot, but what he did write carried alot of weight. He was a thinking man. I remember many times when he’d come in from long hours on the fields or in the barn, he’d sit down at the kitchen table, and he’d ask a deep and thoughtful question that he had been pondering all day. Sometimes (all too seldom, if you ask me), those thoughts would make their way onto paper.
For many years, Dad had had a particular fascination with sheep. His interest stemmed from years of studying the many references to sheep in the Bible. (Look for them sometime – there are lots of them.) He wanted to know what it was really like to be a sheep following his shepherd. The letter I received today was the basis of an article about why he’d chosen to own sheep on the farm.
I’m not sure why the letter showed up today, but I think there’s probably a reason. I’ve re-read the letter a few times and will continue to read it. Dad was a man of few words – when he spoke, you knew it was important to listen. Today, for some reason, I think I’m meant to listen.
This post started out being just about my dad, but now I need to write about my daughter too. As I was writing this, Julie walked up with a poem she’d just written. When I read it, I got a little teary eyed thinking about how proud Dad would have been of his thinking granddaughter. With her permission, here’s her poem:
I lie awake and wonder
What is there I cannot see?
I lay awake and ponder
This lack of knowledge scaring me.
I have not felt the touch
Of searing pain
Or seen the stars
like falling rain
I never can be quite sure
Even of the things I know
Should I stop and smell the roses
Or is it time to go?
I have not felt true horror
I know perhaps I will
I lay awake and wonder
My head with thoughts I fill
We’ve just finished decorating Julie’s room, and the first picture she’s hanging up is one of her on a horse that her Grandpa is leading around the pasture.
